


Angel Hymns

by third_children



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, M/M, Music, One Shot, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/third_children/pseuds/third_children
Summary: Even though Shinji firmly believes the cello lessons he took since he was five have amounted to nothing, Kaworu believes he can take the step to make something of them.





	Angel Hymns

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from my writing blog on tumblr, sort of a test to figure out how AO3's interface works

These sixteenths used to be really hard for me, but now they just sort of happen naturally.

This relaxes me. I don’t really know why, but if I ever need an escape from something, usually I find myself turning to the cello. It might be its voice. It has a rich and deep quality about it. Or it might just be that this is one of the only things I’m kind of good at. There’s a sense of security in doing something that I know I can’t mess up too badly. Or maybe I just come back to it because once I started, no one ever told me to stop.

Usually, though, I don’t come down to the music room to practice it. I’m not in any music-related classes or clubs. I used to be, back when I lived with my teacher, but since moving in with Misato and changing schools, I’ve just been continuing on my own. So any practice I’ve gotten has been in the apartment, by myself. In privacy. I only came down here for lunch break because it started to get rowdy in the classroom and I started to get overwhelmed.

To tell the truth, I’m not that talented. I only know how to play a couple of pieces. The hardest one I can play is the prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite (kind of slowly and carefully). So it’s usually the one I devote my time to, and it’s the one I’m playing now. There’s no one else in the music room, so I don’t mind. It isn’t like anyone is going to walk in or care that I’m here.

Just as I’m holding a note, though, I hear the door latch open, and jump in my seat, stopping before the piece’s end. I throw a glance over my shoulder to see who decided to investigate, and am sort of relieved—though also sort of embarrassed—to see a familiar pair of crimson eyes and head of silver hair.

“Excuse me,” Kaworu says, and my face burns when I realize he’s heard my playing. But he doesn’t express any disapproval. In fact, there’s a glimmer in his eyes. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard your playing from down the hall.”

“Oh—yeah,” I say dumbly. “It’s sort of messy.”

Kaworu shakes his head. “Far from it. And besides, humans must first fail at something before they can master it.” With an easy smile, he crosses the room and takes a seat at the piano near me, slipping his hands out of his pockets to lift the cover on the ivory keys. Without missing a beat, his hands fly across them in a short, delicate riff. “In the same way that the Lilim have, their art has grown and changed over several years. It’s only natural that one may take time to learn it.”

I didn’t know that Kaworu played, so I’m staring, awestruck, at how effortlessly he does it. It’s like he’s painting, but the result is a sound rather than a color. He meets my eyes, and I go rigid in my chair.

“Now, it’s your turn,” he says expectantly.  _Wait, me?_

“No, thanks,” I sputter, waving my hand with the bow still in it. “I mean, I—I really can’t play much of anything else besides that song. They’re not that impressive.”

“It doesn’t need to be impressive. But people must try new things in order to grow and live.”

I go quiet, and my face still feels warm. I can’t follow up a riff like Kaworu’s. I can’t improvise. It isn’t that easy!

But still, if I’m going to improvise, I would want to do it in front of Kaworu. There isn’t anyone else who would appreciate it. He’s amazing and smart and talented, and there’s no way I can produce anything up to his standards, but something about him makes me want to try.

So I try. It’s a simple melody by comparison, nothing particularly daring, but it sounds nice. I repeat it a couple of times, and before I know it, I hear, “That’s very good!”, and some much more complex runs on the piano beside me. Seemingly off the top of his head, Kaworu is accompanying me. Suddenly under pressure to keep up with him, I slip on a few notes, but if he noticed, he doesn’t say anything.

This doesn’t go on for much more than a minute, but we finish on a happy chord I didn’t know I (or he, or  _we_ ) could produce so impromptu like that. Kaworu leans back and relishes in the sound for a moment before lifting his hands from the keys and looking my way.

“You’re more gifted than you give yourself credit for, Shinji.” For some reason, that makes my heart swell. “Do you wish to make something of your music one day? To leave behind your mark in this world?”

“Oh—I…I’ve never really thought about it,” I concede. “I didn’t really think I could make it a career. Besides…” Another thought occurs to me.

“Besides?”

“…Besides, we have the EVA.”

Both the silence and Kaworu’s expression turn somewhat grave, and I lower my head, fearing that I may have said something wrong. Isn’t it true, though? As long as NERV needs us to fight the Angels that come here, we’re contributing something to the world. Right?

“…Shinji,” Kaworu finally says, and I raise my head. “Why don’t you join me here to play every day from now on? You have worth beyond the EVA. I’d like to help you explore it, or she will become all you are.”

“But isn’t that already—”

He gently silences me with a hand. “You have something beautiful to give to the world. But you must take the step forward to give it to everyone.” And then he extends the hand to me. “I will help you. I’m sure we can make something of it together.”

I’ve never had reason to believe I, or my cello lessons, or anything I did would amount to anything. None of it, except piloting the EVA—no one at NERV or in  _any_  part of my life has ever given me reason to believe otherwise. But Kaworu believes it firmly, even though I don’t. And, honestly, coming to the music room every day with him sounds like something I could grow to love.

So, I set the bow across my lap and take the hand. “Alright. Um…thank you.”


End file.
